The Fist That Twists
by The Plastic Owl
Summary: After the death of King Joffrey, Varys and Petyr find comfort with one another. A sensual, succulent comfort. Involving FISTS.


The Fist That Twists

There was chaos at King's Landing. King Joffrey had choked on a fishbone, and in a bid to save him, Cersei had given him a pat on the back. Unfortunately that just made him choke more, so Captain Slynt McDipshit tried to grab it out, but failed. Joffrey choked to death, pinching out a pungent loaf with his last dying spasms.

Many people had reacted in different ways. Tyrion and Bronn high fived then went to smoke weed and fuck a bunch of whores. Cersei got more drunk. Sandor and Sansa scurried away to have hot BDSM sex.

Varys, mind whirring, returned to his room. He locked the door. He hurriedly ate a sandwich, eyes flitting about everywhere. His eyes locked on a sparrow, whom proceeded to burst a spout of hot butt gravy from its arsehole.

Moaning through crumbs of bread and cheese at the bad omen, Varys shooed away the dirty bird from his sill. He flinched as there was a sound behind him.

"A little bird is the least of your worries…"

It was Petyr Baelish, aka Littlefinger, Master of the Coin and Official Nasssty Sleaze. He crept out of Varys's closet.

"What do you want?"

"I thought you liked birds?"

"What do you _want_?"

"I want to know what we do now. Robb? Renly? Stannis? Tyrion?"

"Of all of them I would pick Renly."

"Do you like Renly because he likes to 'drop pork' through the Eyrie's Moon Door?" Petyr leered, sidling up to Varys. Varys flinched and moved away.

"I like Renly because he would be a good king."

"I like Renly because he would be a good… _queen_."

Petyr excitedly giggled at this, and in doing so, let out a tiny fart by accident. He stared at Varys. Varys stared back. Varys ran for the door. Petyr blocked his path. His fart lingered around him, smelling like hot peanuts and bad bread. Petyr licked his lips, his tongue long and obscene, the tip tracing his skeezy moustache. Varys let out a gasp, sounding like a lady whose skirt has blown up around her hips in the wind.

Petyr quickly overpowered Varys, pinning him against his bedroom door. He ground his butt against Varys's robes, moaning at the thought of the fatter man's ample flesh rubbing against his huge and magnificent cock.

"I thought you were saving yourself for Catelyn Stark!"

"I don't want a Stark."

Petyr leaned forward and jammed his tongue in Varys's ear, swirling it in circles before taking a big sniff of Varys's sexy bald head.

"I want a FARK."

Varys squealed as Petyr undid his robes sash, nuzzling his neck and humping his behind. Varys's robes soon fell away, Petyr peeling back the cloth and salivating, peeling the robes away as a young boy peels away the cloth on a stack of sweetmeats. This is what he had wanted since Robert's power had waned, the chance to take the soft, chubby, sensual Spymaster down a peg. Taken down a peg and made to beg for a long an' slow poke with his "Pointy End".

Petyr groaned at the thought, and hurled the weeping eunuch onto the bed. He began to take off his own ceremonial robes slowly, to let Varys gaze at his solid body. He had firm muscles, strong arms, a tight ass, and a thick cock ready for ACTION.

"Why?" Varys gasped, as Petyr stood before him, stroking his cock, in preparation. "I have no balls!"

Petyr leaned down and sharply slapped Varys's face, and then his quivering buttocks.

"The gods gave you a mouth and an anus. And I intend to spurt my hot and potent seed into one. Or the other. Or BOTH."

Petyr petulantly pointed at his penis. Seeing no way out of this, Varys accepted what was to be, and made his lips into an 'O' shape.

"Here comes Daddy," Petyr murmured, as his throbbing sword was swallowed by Varys, inch by inch. He began to rock back and forth on his heels, hand on the back of Varys's head, making sure he took it all in. Varys thought his cock tasted like hot butter and something mysterious, something he had never tasted before. He realised this was cum, and the thought excited him. He slid his hands up Petyr's thighs, beginning to suck in earnest.

Petyr, taken by surprise, shuddered. He began to get really into the groove, placing his hands on the back of his head and thrusting. He wasn't the king of King's Landing, but he _was_ the king of Cock SLAMMING.

He slapped Varys's cheeks before he was about to blow. He decided that he wanted to fire his dangling cannons into the other man's 'port surrounded by pillows'.

"I want to ride you like you were a mare and I were a Dothraki. Or maybe I was a Dothraki, and you were a COW. Feel them udders!"

Petyr came up behind Varys and squeezed his tremendous man titties. Varys murmured his pleasure, now deliberately bumping his butt against Petyr. Petyr looked down and nodded in satisfaction. Varys had nothing but a gash, but his lust must come from a place deep inside.

Petyr was determined to find out where that place of lust was hidden. With. His. LITTLEFINGER.

"EEEE!"

"Sssshhhh," Petyr cooed, his pointer finger going back and forth, sliding deeper each time. Varys, after a few deep breaths, began to relax. In fact, he began to do more than that. He began to become really turned on.

Petyr looked around for a lubricant. He spotted a tin of solid perfume oil. Shrugging, he decided that Varys's arse could smell like sunflowers this first time. Next time he would get proper stuff from one of his brothels.

"Mmmm," Varys sighed as Petyr got the little man all loose with his digits.

"Yes, it's going to feel good to be my bitch, isn't it? It's going to be DELICIOUS."

Varys let out a little shriek again as Petyr thrust into him. His cock was big, and it hurt.

"Take the pain, you preening little whore from the East! You fancy slut, sashaying your ass all around the Keep! Who do you love?"

"You, Baelish!"

"No! Wrong!"

Petyr forced Varys's head into the pillows.

"In this room I'm DADDY."

"Daddy!" Varys cried out as Petyr let him back up to breathe. Petyr was really thrusting now, snorting through his nostrils and going red in the face. And yet still, he could not blow his MAN CREAM into Varys's tight sphincter. No, he needed something more daring. More… decadent.

He pulled out. Varys began to protest, but then squealed louder than ever as Petyr proceeded to ram his fist up his rectum.

"EEEE! EEEE! EEEE!"

"Yes! YES! You feel so fucking good inside, like an egg made from succulent sausage! A pumpkin stuffed with squash! A donut filled with sweet, sweet jam! A chicken stuffed inside a duck, inside a TURKEY! So. Much. Succulent. MEAT!"

Varys felt like he was going to pass out. He slumped on the pillows, watching the sparrows in the windowsill. They seemed to be laughing at him, his domination, his quivering body covered in Petyr's pimp sweat. Those cheeping bitches.

"Daddy thinks big bad babies need a butt punch! Daddy thinks… what the fuck?"

"Urrrrrurrrrgheeeeeeyooooooouuuuurrrrgh!"

Daenerys Targaryen and Jorah Mormont burst into the bedroom on Drogon. Drogon looked at the fornicating gentlemen and swallowed them in one go. Daenerys and Jorah fistbumped each other, then decided to fuck on the empty bed. Drogon flew leisurely away. Perhaps he would eat a sheep.

FIN.


End file.
